


Someday

by Spero



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Love, Magic, Old Friends, Old Lovers, lost relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:04:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spero/pseuds/Spero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“John I swear if you've brought some tramp back to my apartment I’ll hex you into next year.” It wasn't an empty threat. We both knew I could do it. He winks at me. </p><p>“Ahh, you’d miss me too much.” I wish I could deny it. “You know you’re the only girl for me.” It’s a lie, and he doesn't even bother to disguise it. I probably would have slapped him if he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday

**Author's Note:**

> This is more Young Justice compliant than DCU. References/allusions to "Everyday Magic" and Justice League Dark 1-6

_“You don’t have the powers these people have without paying a heavy price.”_

I once heard dad saying that Magic is like a poison, a dark deadly poison that eats you up on the inside and leaks out through your pores infecting all those you love. He was talking about my mom, and I thought that his bitter anger and grief caused his words, but I know now that he was telling the truth.

You can’t have the powers I have…the powers my father, Constantine, Xanadu, Shade, etc. have without losing a bit of yourself in the process.

Shade says we’re all half-insane and dangerous to ourselves. Maybe he’s not wrong. Maybe it’s not as evident in me as it is in the other’s but I can feel it, building in the darkest corners of my heart. I can feel it in the way my dreams become darker, the way I wake screaming and soaked in my own sweat. I can feel it in my bones.

“rooD nepo” I muttered wearily, dragging my feet in long shuffles, exhausted. Look, I know its a problem, how much I rely on my magic. I am fully aware of how much I exert myself on the little things. But it’s been a rough day —hell it’s been a rough couple of years and all I want to do right now is flopp into my bed and sleep for a month.

Only, there’s someone already in my bed and it certainly isn't my boyfriend. My tiny squeak of surprise turns into a shriek of rage; “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

He wakes with a start, tumbling out of my bed, “Bullocks.” he mutters and I can tell he’s hungover. “No need to yell luv.” He rubs his calloused hands over his unshaven face. “Especially with what I just went through for you.” One, bleary, bloodshot eye opens and gives me a pointed look. He wants to make me feel guilty, remind me that I owe him one now.

As if I could forget. Owing John Constantine is not something one easily ignores, and sending him to Hell for information was a pretty big ask.

That does not, however, explain why he’s naked and hung over in my apartment. “John I swear if you’ve brought some tramp back to my apartment I’ll hex you into next year.” It wasn’t an empty threat. We both knew I could do it. He winks at me.

“Ahh, you’d miss me too much.” I wish I could deny it. “You know you’re the only girl for me.” It’s a lie, and he doesn't even bother to disguise it. I probably would have slapped him if he did.

He stands slowly, painfully and I can almost hear his joints creaking, not bothering to cover up. He’s trying to make me blush, but I won’t. I’ve seen it all before. Not that I don’t appreciate the view, he is by no means unattractive. In the end it is the thought of him inside me, filling me, that brings heat to my cheeks.

Sex with John was never like sex with Dick. Dick was wild and passionate, give and take we’re a perfect pair because we balance each other so well. With John it was… gentle and loving, a melding of two bodies in perfect, blissful harmony. Even now after so much time has past, even now that my heart and body belong to Dick I cannot look at the man across from me and not feel the love I know we share. Some days, days when I’m by myself, and I remember who we were I fancy myself in love with him. Whether I am or not… well, it’s unimportant. I have Dick now, and John, well he’s still a lying bastard.

He smirks and I can tell that he can still read me like an open book, he knows what I’m thinking, he knows I’m thinking of us. “Aren’t you going to thank me?” he asks in that arrogant, smarmy tone of his and I turn away, my face falling to stone.

“Did you get anything for me?” I ask pointedly, picking up his discarded trench coat and tossing it at him. I have to resist the urge to bring it to my face and inhale, to breath in the sent of him; sulfur, nicotine, whiskey and sex.

He catches the coat clumsily and stumbles past me. Going to my kitchen, to the top shelf, just above the small island. It shouldn't surprise me that he knows exactly where to go to find my liquor. He once told me that he couldn't function without at least one drink in him and a fag between his lips.

“You’re out of bourbon, by the way.” he informs, pulling the half empty bottle of vodka down and filling a glass.

Now before you go make some comment about underage drinking, you should know that… well honestly, I just don’t give a shit. Everything I do in the run of a week, I deserve a drink.

I roll my eyes, “naelC pu!” I say instead of answering him, watching as my sheets straighten and tuck themselves in and the stains elaborate. “I’m waiting, John.” I say pointedly and he smirks, he knows.

“I did just get back from Hell, luv. Give a bloke a break.” He tells me downing the vodka in one go before finally slipping the coat over his shoulders and pulling a cigarette from the inside pocket. “Light this for me, will ya?” he requests and with a sigh I approach.

“emalF” I mutter watching as fire burst to life in my palm and then fades when I close it, now that he’s successfully puffing smoke around my head.

Before I can react his hand is sliding around my waist, pulling me flush to him. “You’re being awfully cold, Zee.” he scolds gently in my ear, his finger tracing circles on my lower back, sending shivers of pleasure up my spine. “ Didn't you miss me?”

I have to swallow and push down my lust, push down how goddamn good it feels to have his arms around me again. I lick my lips but pull away, “I have a boyfriend, John.” I inform him, but we both know what it is my body wants right now and I have to step further away to avoid temptation.

I remind myself of Dick, of how fun and sweet and caring and loyal Dick is. I make myself remember how he makes me feel; warm, and safe and in control. All thoughts of how Dick can’t understand me, not really, and how John understands so perfectly are ignored. I force myself to remember how it felt when John left me, with little more than a note.

That brings me to my senses and I step further back, arms folding over my chest, hugging myself.

A small flash of regret in his eyes is the only emotion I get before he’s smirking again. “Lucky bloke. Make you happy?” he asked. He always asks.

“Why do you care?” I snap unfairly, because I know he does. Maybe more than anyone.

He just winks and says, “Because someone should.”

My anger deflates and I sigh, looking away. His calloused fingers slide under my chin and force me to look at him. “You want to know what I learned, or not?” his smirk his back. I want to slap it off him. He laughs; he can see it in my face. He takes a long, slow drag and then starts talking. “I can’t honestly tell you much more than you already know,” he confesses finally. “This... whatever it is, is unlike anything anyone has ever experienced or witnessed before... you've really gotten into this this time, gorgeous.” And then he’s explaining in that patient, steady way he has with just a touch of condescension and an extra large helping of snark.

For a moment my memories of a much simpler time with him wash over me. Back when I was still young and grieving for my father and he was teaching me everything he could be it magic, sex, how to hold my liquor or roll a joint. But as quickly as they came they’re gone again and I’m listening. Committing his words to memory so I can share them later.

I nod, feeling a little panicked. If John couldn't give me an answer then he was right; I was in deep. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”

John shook his head, pouring and downing another drink. “None. Way I figure it, it’s eventually going to work itself out, but I don’t know how long it’ll take; could be a week could be years,” and suddenly I know he’s not talking about the “crisis” anymore. He’s talking about us.

I’m silent for a long time, trying to find the words, then finally; “Maybe someday.”

“Someday,” he promises.

We get drunk after that, and I lose track of time, eventually falling into a deep, exhausted sleep. I wake only once, when his lips brush mine lightly; “Take care, luv.” he whispers and I know when I wake up the next time he will be gone. And he is, because that’s what John Constantine does best. Leave.


End file.
